


Keep Me Here

by LadyAmalthea



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is Bad at Feelings, Connor Deserves Happiness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 06:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15989825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAmalthea/pseuds/LadyAmalthea
Summary: Connor was caught somewhere in the middle. He would wake up in Hank’s home, happy to greet his partner, but found himself forcing smiles and polite conversations when all he wanted to do was show his frustration. It was just easier to pretend. To live on autopilot.But it wasn’t easier.There was something dark in the back of his thoughts that he kept locked away, behind a dam that was crumbling and would break at any moment.





	Keep Me Here

 

Most days were good.

 

Hank had been going to therapy, and started medication for the depression. The first few weeks of transitioning onto the new chemicals in his system were tough, and he flip-flopped between thinking the dosage they gave him was either too high or too low. But the nights slowly got easier. They would get home from work and Hank would still grab a beer. It was only on the worst nights that he would hurl himself into an drunken coma, or go straight to bed without eating.

 

But after about six months, those nights stopped completely. Some nights he even made dinner himself, especially on days where Connor stayed at the precinct later than he did. He found himself  _ wanting _ to walk Sumo, clean the house, take care of himself.

 

Connor was so proud of him; the grungy, scowling lieutenant he first met seemed like a distant memory from how far the man had come in less than a year. There were still some tough cases that made Hank want to crawl into bed and never come out, but he was at least receptive to Connor pulling him back out. 

 

And, to the extent that Connor needed, Hank had been supportive of him back. Still navigating the complexities of emotions brought on in tidal waves, Hank made Connor talk him through each one. The joy of freedom and each new law protecting androids’ rights, the disappointment of a case closing before they could solve it; each high and low point on the roller coaster. Like Hank had told him, some emotions got easier.

 

Some didn’t.

 

While Hank was on the steady incline of getting better, Connor started feeling a kind of exhaustion that he did not know how to define. They would get home from work, and all that he would long for was the peaceful, empty bliss of going into stasis for the night. While volunteering with Jericho, either at the shelters or in negotiations, there was the ever-present feeling that he was so lucky to be where he was, and to have Hank’s support. Some androids were so torn apart, spending days just waiting until they shut down. He felt guilt for how easy he had it, overall. It started to eat away at him, piece by piece.

 

He also dealt with things that he found no one else could relate to. Many androids still despised the sight of him around Jericho, or resented him for continuing on with the police force. A lot of humans still ignored his legal personhood, even complete strangers hurling insults and slurs at him while he was out investigating. Despite his abilities and wealth of knowledge, he was told outright by Captain Fowler that it would be a few years before he could advance through the ranks or receive higher pay. Connor wasn’t concerned about either of those things at the moment, but… the realization that he would be stuck at the bottom for a while was disheartening.

 

He was caught somewhere in the middle. He would wake up in Hank’s home, happy to greet his partner, but found himself forcing smiles and polite conversations when all he wanted to do was show his frustration. It was just easier to pretend. To live on autopilot.

 

But it wasn’t easier.

 

There was something dark in the back of his thoughts that he kept locked away, behind a dam that was crumbling and would break at any moment.

 

\---

 

“Hank, I was wondering if you would like to join me at Jericho this weekend? They are having an visual arts festival to benefit the shelter. It is open to anyone to attend,” Connor spoke up as they were driving home. 

 

“Maybe… when is it?” Hank asked, uncapping a bottle of water with one hand and taking a sip.

 

Connor smiled, “this weekend, I believe it starts Saturday morning, but we can arrive later in the afternoon.” 

 

“Sure, that sounds cool,” Hank replied passively, keeping his attention on the road. “About time I met some of those buddies of yours over there.”

 

A bit of warmth sunk into Connor’s thirium pump, “Yes, I… I am rather looking forward to that, actually.”

 

When they got home, it was just like most other nights. Hank made dinner while Connor took Sumo out for a walk. Afterwards they were on the couch, talking, and Connor began to drift into stasis every few minutes.

 

“What, am I really that boring to you now?” Hank asked, slightly accusatory.

 

Connor blinked his eyes open widely, “No, no…. My apologies. I am listening, my optical biocomponents are just-”

 

“Eyes, just call them your eyes. You don’t gotta be so literal. ” Hank smirked, but when Connor didn’t smile back, his expression darkened. “Hey, I didn’t mean to…”

 

Connor shook his head, “No, I… I know what you mean Hank. My… eyes are overworked, it is taking a lot of processing power to keep them open after being in the evidence room for so many hours this evening. Us deviants are more human than we’d like to admit, sometimes.” he stated calmly. 

 

Hank noticed that his face remained weirdly neutral, not relaxing into a smile like he normally did when he tried to admit his humanity like that. “All right, maybe I should just head to bed too, I guess. Gettin’ kinda late.” Several joints cracked as he stood up, glancing over at Connor every couple of seconds, who was still tiredly laying across the couch. His soft brown curls were hiding inside his hoodie, and through the big pocket Hank could tell the android was fiddling with his coin, probably.

 

Concerned, Hank sat back down and rested a hand on Connor’s knee, “Hey… you wanna talk about anything?”

 

Connor kept his eyes distantly from Hank’s, “I… I’m not sure… I think I just want to go into stasis, if that’s all right.”

 

Unconvinced, but afraid of pushing the topic further, Hank said a quiet “good night” before going to bed himself. He stripped off the remnants of the work day, letting the dark pants and brightly striped shirt fall to the floor, kicking them toward the plastic laundry basket to deal with later. An old band tshirt and a fresh pair of boxers later, Hank laid down in bed. His mind was racing with thoughts; he wanted to give Connor some space to deal with whatever was going on in that supercomputer brain. But on the other hand, from experience, he knew that isolation could make whatever the problem was even worse.

 

He left the bedroom light on and pulled his tablet from the bedside table to read for a little while before going to sleep. If Connor wanted to talk, he’d be awake and ready to listen. 

 

Connor was sometimes a tough egg to crack… he would get emotional, sure, but he always seemed sort of disconnected from them. He’d acknowledge the feeling, sometimes letting them conflict with his programming, but it was almost like there was a facade to it all. That he was faking how distant he was from the feeling. It was weird to Hank, at first, until he had contacted one of Connor’s android friends about it.

 

\--

 

_ “He just doesn’t seem to want to let things come out, you know what I mean?” He asked, sipping his coffee as he looked at the tall android sitting beside him. Josh had his hands folded together, keeping his attention on Hank. _ __  
_  
_ __ “Connor has had some… trying experiences. Both before and after deviancy,” he started, trying to think of how to explain. “His experiences with other androids, and particularly with deviancy, are much different than most of us. There is likely a part of him still trying to resist it, and with Connor’s personality, he may also just need time to develop.”

 

_ “So… kinda like, deviant adolescence?” Hank asked. _

 

_ Josh raised his gaze away, his head tilting a little as he thought about the comparison. “In a way, yes. But, Connor has always been very giving, especially during his time here. He constantly puts others first, which is very reminiscent of his original programming. He hasn’t really talked about it with any of us… I’m really glad you reached out about this, Hank. I’ve actually been meaning to talk with him, but, he seems very hesitant. He won’t even interface with any of us.” _

 

_ “Interface? The like, weird, connection thingy with your hands?” Hank asked. “I saw him do that in the CyberLife Tower, the night of the revolution.” _

 

_ Josh nodded with a smile, “Yup, that’s it,” but concern shortly after made the small dissipate. “We interface to exchange information, and in the example you are referring to, it was to instigate deviancy. But, even though we have asked, he hasn’t done it since.” _

 

_ Hank raised a single brow, “But you guys do the, like, wireless telepathy thing…?”  _

 

_ “Yes, but interfacing is different. Think of it like… using an ethernet wire instead of a public wi-fi network. It’s faster, a more sturdy connection. We exchange information, but we can also exchange memories, and the emotions attached to them. Interfacing has been very therapeutic for some of the androids dealing with particularly bad trauma.” _

 

_ “Huh…” Hank set his coffee down, “Has he said why he won’t?” _

 

_ Josh shrugged, leaning back into the couch, “He has given each of us who have asked a different answer: he is concerned about accidentally revealing any confidential information about police investigations, that he’s uncomfortable doing so, that he doesn’t want us to see things he did before deviancy. I think he just doesn’t trust us to understand… not even Markus.” _

 

\--

 

Hank was distracted by the memory, and lost his place on the page he had been reading in his book. “Fuck…” he cursed, trying to find where he left off. After skimming the page for a minute, he decided to give up. He had to take a piss before bed anyway.

 

He slid off the edge of the bed, trying to open the bedroom door quietly so he wouldn’t wake the dog up. As he started to step across the hall, he saw a flashing red light coming from the living room. There was the faint sound of quick, shallow breaths, and that was enough for Hank to step into action.

 

“Connor, you all right?” He said, his voice a little gravely from speaking at a low volume. 

 

There was hasty movement from the couch; Connor shot up from where he was sitting. He backed away from Hank toward the door, his face weirdly calm and the breathing ceased altogether. 

 

“I’m fine Hank…and you should be sleeping, we have work in th-"

 

“Connor.” Hank’s tone made Connor jump a little, taking another step away. “What’s going on with you?” He crossed his arms in front of him.

 

“Nothing is-"

 

“NOPE.  _ Clearly  _ something is wrong, and you won’t tell me. Or anyone else, for that matter” Hank brought his arms down, and he approached Connor slowly. The android made no attempt to retreat any further, accepting the inevitable but kept a brave face as if to give Hank a chance to change his mind. “Please… I don’t care what it is, just talk to me.” Like he had so many months ago, Hank took Connor’s shoulder and pulled him into an embrace.

 

“I… want to be honest with you… I am not sure if I know how,” the simulated breathing restarted, short bursts if labored breaths between words.

 

“It’s all right… just let me hear it.”

 

Connor’s fingers dug desperately into Hank’s back, pulling and bunching the tshirt’s fabric into his tightly forming fists. “I have been… thinking about… things you once thought about.” He buried his face into Hank’s shoulder; shame and worry leaking out of his voice, a stark contrast from the facade he had put on just before.

 

Hank had a guess as to what Connor meant. No…. Hank  _ knew _ what he meant.

 

“I do not think about how I would… or… any specifics, really. Just… the thought of not existing any further. How much easier it would be to stop trying, trying to put in all of this useless effort,” Hank heard a small choked gasp as Connor pulled away. 

 

“Connor…” 

 

Something was different when got a look at Connor’s face.

 

It was glistening, because it was  _ wet. _

 

He was crying…

 

_ HE WAS... CRYING?! _

 

The realization sent a pang of emotion through Hank’s heart. It was wonderful to see Connor express his emotions for once, but seeing him so distraught… hearing the confession hurt Hank in a way he never would’ve anticipated.

 

“But…” 

 

That one single word made Hank hold his breath. 

 

“But I know that I can’t. I can’t because… because of you, Hank.” 

 

“Wh-what?” Hank’s mouth dropped open.

“ _ You _ are what is keeping me here. I don’t even care about how anyone else would do or say if I was gone. But... the thought of leaving you, after all we’ve been through is…” A stuttered sob is choked from Connor’s mouth as he curled his head back downwards. His hands had slowly made their way from Hank’s back to his chest, curling into tight fists.“I could never do that to you, Hank,” his voice was soft and lost, the words falling from him exhaustedly.

 

Hank could feel Connor shaking in his arms, the android’s legs buckling slightly as he leaned forward into him. He carefully guided Connor back to the couch, still holding him closely. “Hey, Con?” he asked softly.

 

“Yes, Hank?” 

 

“Have you… thought about this a lot?”

 

Connor took a moment before replying. “At least once a day, for a few months, I think.”

 

“A few…  _ months? _ ” Hank repeated, exacerbated. 

 

Months… plural… “a few” meaning probably two or three... or more. Connor had been keeping this hidden away for this long?

 

Connor made a small noise of discomfort, raising his hands to cover his face. “I’m sorry, Hank… I'm so sorry,” he cried desperately. Hank released what felt like a long-held breath to release the pressure that seemed to constrict his chest. He held Connor silently, heart aching more and more with each sorrowful apology, and rocked the android slightly.

 

“I think about it too, sometimes…” he admitted, speaking low and running a few fingers through Connor’s wavy hair. “Even with the pills and the shrink, ya know... after thinking about it for years I just can’t help it.”

 

Connor dropped his hands away from his face, giving a broken, solemn look up at Hank’s clear, blue eyes. 

 

“But… you keep me around too, ya know. I wouldn’t be here without you, Con, and that ain't gonna change for a long time.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to write another little one-shot since I can't focus enough to update any of my longer-running fics. What else is new?
> 
> I'm always open to prompts or requests; been meaning to do a more romantic Hank/Con one-shot soon, so if anybody has a suggestion I'm all ears!
> 
>  
> 
> Find me on Twitter @canticumexvacui


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